Deadalive
by Cersei's Son
Summary: Action and reaction. What are the costs of our actions? And can a relationship sustain them?
1. Chapter 1: My Struggle Part I

**Disclaimer: These characters and setting don't belong, as I dont have the copyrights to them. All rights go to J.K. Rowling.**

 **This fanfic is supposed to be a little darker and deeper. It was inspired by Grey's Anatomy.**

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 **Deadalive**

 **Chapter 1: My Struggle**

It was christmas eve, and Draco was sitting by himself in the Great Hall, drinking butterbeer, which Dumbledore had ordered from Hogsmeade. There were very few students left at Hogwarts, most of them left for the holidays to be with their families and friends. Draco had no friends, no real friends to be honest. He had Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy, but who was he trying to convince? They weren't his real friends, they were just company he kept to make him feel better about himself. In truth, he was all alone. He had no one for company, no friends nor family. He was trapped in a black void in space and time, drifting from place to place, emptiness spreading throughout his body, a dark entity slowly taking over his body, infecting him like an illness, slowly consuming him from the inside. Loneliness, was what he called it. A dark and haunting place, where he was born into and never left. It was a shadow that always accompanied him. It was his friend in a weird and twisted way. The comfort and nurturing it gave him, it almost felt like family, like home. Loneliness was his companion, his friend, as long as he could remember. It was there for him when he needed it, and it made him feel better and worse about himself.

Alone at Slytherin table, he enjoyed his warm goblet of butterbeer and some freshly baked biscuits sent by his auntie Bella. The biscuits were square shaped and quite hard, quite rustic. Draco dipped them in his butterbeer to soften and richen them with aroma and warm sweetness. He enjoyed the holidays, especially when it came to beverages, food and clothing. It brought a smile to his face, and some of his fondest memories, like spending his youthful years with his auntie, baking biscuits and drinking muggle tea, which she grew herself out back in her petite garden, or sitting on his father's lap, while he read him stories before he went to bed. The smell of sweet caramel mixing with the flavour of the butterbeer was hypnotizing and relaxing at the same time. Memories of his mother buying him the sweetest cupcakes in Diagon Alley when he was just a mere five years old, flashed before his eyes, and he could still taste the different ingeŕedients, even after twelve years.

Good memories were a rare thing for him. He had mostly bad and haunting ones. Ones that would make even make Snape feel an emotion or make Dumbledore wet his pants. Memories that were so terrifying that they still made him cringe and get goosebumps after such a long time. He thought about the time when his father was killing house elves here and there after the Dark Lord fell at the hands of Potter. Blood covered most of the kitchens and servants' halls, staining the cold stone floors, marinating the carpets and the furniture with a dark red liquid. As a youngster, he was all too familiar with bones and blood, actions and their consequences, with life and death. If you ever crossed Lucius Malfoy the wrong way, even just the slightest misstep, he would make sure that you paid for it in blood. _The Iron Price_ , he'd called it. _What a weird name?_ Draco'd always thought. But nowadays he knew what he meant and what the exact consequences were if you did cross him. One wrong move, and everything was for naught. The world as you know it will crumble before your feet and you'll been done. Sipping his butterbeer, a tear rolled down his bloated red cheeks. _What did I do to deserve this? I lost everything that was dear to me, and for what? For my pride? For respect? For what? I tried to play with the big dogs and I failed. Miserably. And now look at me, alone and hurting during the most joyous day of the year. Sulking over biscuits and butterbeer, like some homeless drunkard from Hogsmeade. How humiliating._ There wasn't much Draco could do at this moment, but sit in the Great Hall, and sulk over his food.

Wind was howling through the hall, a chill crept along his spine and the hairs on his neck stood straight. The sweet aroma of his drink spread through his nostril and into his lungs, igniting a warm feeling around his chest, making him think that he's actually not freezing to death. He reached under the table, massaging his right leg, cramps and stings from the train ride, bothering him. And then the left one, but it was gone, only a stump was left in its place. It didn't hurt as much as he had thought, but he still felt sharp stings like knives from time to time. It was uncomfortable, and sure it was a great loss to him, but what could he have done to prevent it? Kill his father over a mere leg? What kind of a son would he, if he did such a gruesome thing? He would've surely been sent to trial and quite possibly to Azkaban if he had. _I lost a leg, but that was a small price to pay for telling him the truth. At least now he knows._ Having warm thoughts and relaxing over luncheon, numbed the pain for a short while. _It was my leg, he had no right in deciding what to do with it. My leg, and he made the choice to cut it off, even after I made it specifically clear that I wanted to keep it. I've had it for seventeen years, at least give me the freedom to decide if I wanna keep it or not. My choice. That's all I asked of him, and he took that away from me._ He took another sip, and a frustrated expressed was now present on his face. Wrinkled forehead and nose, puffy cheeks from the cold, and a huge frown, covered his face.

 _Now he thinks, he's some kind of a hero, having saved me from certain death. But did he ever consider that maybe I wanted to live having both my legs? Being able to walk, and run, or maybe skate through the halls of Hogwarts? No, he didn't. He gave the order, and now I only have one leg left. This is so typical for him. Him and his bloody hero complex. Always trying to save people, even if they don't need his help or saving. It's fucking annoying sometimes, but also adorable. How he cares for the less fortunate. How he made him see the good in people. To care for them, and cherish what he had and be grateful for the things he was fortunate to have and get. Others weren't so lucky, and he never understood that, until he met him._ Grabbing his drink, he finished the last few drops of it and placed the cup back on the table. The biscuits were all gone now as well. He looked over to his right, over his shoulder, and he saw a goofy looking, glasses wearing, dark and messy haired boy, walking towards him. That boy was carrying two cups of presumably fresh butterbeer, and had a giant grin on his face. It looked ridiculous. Draco let out a sigh, and placed his left hand on his amputated leg. _Speaking of the devil._


	2. Chapter 2: My Struggle Part II

**Chapter 2: My Struggle Part II**

 _Oh my, it looks like he's in his thoughts again. Those dark thoughts. But I have to put up a brave front for him, and support him in any way possible. He's my boyfriend, and he suffered a great loss. I know it isn't easy for him, but it was for his own good. It's not easy for me either, because I made the decision to take his leg, in order to save his life._ He wanted to frown, and tears were forming in his eye socket, but he mustered up everything he could, as to have a cheery appearance and a joyous mood. Harry had brought two hot cups of butterbeer for the two of them, and some gingerbread cookies he stole from the Dursley. It was a special gift from him to Draco, because gingerbread was his favourite, even if he didn't want to admit it out loud. _Oh Draco, dearest, what have I done to you. You must realize I only did it, so that I wouldn't lose you. I know it may seem selfish, but it's true. You mean the world to me, and I would gladly lay down my own life to save yours, but you wouldn't let me. You wanted to be the hero this time. You saved me. Sacrificed yourself in order to save my life, so that I could live. But why? I know you love me, even if you never say it to my face. Loving me in your own way, has always been your thing, and in that moment, when you pushed me away, out of the crossfire, it was your way of telling me that you loved me. I could feel the energy in your body, when you touched me in that instant, and it was electrifying and terrifying at the same time. Draco, you would've died for me, and it scared the living shit out of me and it made me incredibly proud of you._ Harry was so deep in thoughts, he tripped over his own feet, fell to the ground and spilled their drinks. One of the drinks landed on Draco, and he let out a scream, for the drink was quite hot, and it burned on his flesh. Landing on his face, with his arms and hands stretched out in front of him, he somehow stopped the blow a little bit, but it still hurt like hell, when he hit his head on the stone floor.

When Harry caught his breath and his head stopped spinning, he realized that Draco was making a fuss about his ruined clothes and that Harry had been a complete and utter fool for tripping, and how he couldn't believe that they knew each other. Panting, he stood up, reached for a napkin from a nearby napkin holder, and tried to get the stains out of Draco's clothes. Draco looked down at him, while he desperately tried to save the other boy's clothes, giving him a look that said more than a thousand words. Harry knew what he was thinking in that exact moment: _I sacrificed my leg, my leg, for this whimp? This pitiful creature, I call my boyfriend? It was hardly even worth it_. Harry couldn't hold back his tears, while saying _I'm sorry_ over and over and over again. Draco only sneered at him in disgust, and looked away from his boyfriend. Gradually breaking down mentally, Harry stood up, slammed the butterbeer stained napkins in Draco's lap, ready to slap him across the face, when Draco blocked his attack in mid flight. Tears rolling down, cheeks all puffy and crimson, Harry collapsed onto his knees. "How dare you try to strike _me_! Me, of all people! The one, who saved your sorry ass and sacrificed what was dear to me. I can't believe that you would do that to me. What the fuck, Harry?" He let go of the other boy's arm and slammed right back at him. Looking up at him, tears dashing down his cheeks, and his eyes all swelled up from crying, Harry got up from the cold floor and sat beside his boyfriend. "How dare _I_? How dare _you_! You treat me like shit everyday. You make me suffer and go through hell. You keep reminding me of what happened, and what incredible sacrifice you made. But that was _your_ choice, not mine. I saved your leg as you can see. I was there for you when you needed me the most. I let you treat me like garbage in order to make you feel better and lash out if you needed to. I was the scapegoat you needed. But no more. I'm sick and tired of this cat and mouse game. I'm sick of you still blaming me for what happened. Sure it was a shit situation, but it happened. Get over it already! The past is in the past for a reason, Draco, so stop crying over spilled milk. If you won't change this attitude of yours, I _will_ you and then you'll truly have no one left at your side. It may seem egoistical of me, but that's how it is. I have to stand up for myself at least this once before I get belittled again by you or someone else. So shut the fuck up, treat me with respect, swallow your pride, and let me _help_ you!" Harry yelled, his voice slightly gone after ranting, trying to catch his breath.

Draco was shocked at what he just witnessed, grabbing the dirty napkins and placing them on the table in front of him. _I never knew that he was this frustrated and pissed at me. Sure, I thought that he might be pissed at me for treating him like shit every day, but I needed to at least blame someone, anyone, for what happened._ "I know, Harry, I don't blame you for hating me and being pissed. I needed to blame someone, anyone, and it seems that I took it all out on you, because you were the only there for me, and I hated the fact that I lost everything because of you. I resent you for having the mobility, the ability to walk, and I don't. It may seem harsh blaming everything you, but it seemed so easy at the time. And when you never said anything in protest, I thought that you were taking it all for me, because you love me, and would never ever leave. It stupid, I know, but that was the logic I had back then. You should've said something, anything, I would've stopped. Harry, I love you, and I would never hurt you intentionally, but please try to see it from my point of view. I couldn't bare losing you too. You mean too much to me. My heart would break, and...and I don't know, I'm afraid of would might happen if I lost you." Draco broke down in tears for the first time since the day it happened. His words choked the breath away from Harry's throat, making it impossible for him to answer. Harry laid a reassuring hand on Draco's head, which was placed on his folded arms on the table. Draco's body was heaving, up and down, sobbing, letting it all out. All of the built up anger and frustration was being poured out in form of tears, and Harry was so proud of him in that moment, starting to cry himself, again. Raising his head, after what felt like an hour, he looked at his boyfriend with tear-filled and swollen eyes. Eyes full of regret and pain.

"Draco. Draco, honey, I'm here for you. I love you, and I'll never leave you. I promise. You're the love of my life, and I'm here for you through thick and thin, through good and bad times. 'Cause that's what people do in relationships, they're there for each other, no matter what. In a relationship, you have to compromise and make sacrifices, and I'm willing to do that, the same as you. Maybe not exactly like you did...that was a bad example, but I hope you get the gist. Anyway, the point is, pull that shit again, and I will seriously reconsider this relationship. I mean it, Draco, this shit wasn't funny. I can understand you having a bad day, or week even, but taking it out on the one who loves you no matter what, is a bit harsh, even for your standards. Now come here you." Cupping Draco's face in his sweaty palms, he placed one hell of kiss straight on his swelled-up lips, exchanging not only their saliva, but also their passion and love for one another. It felt good, great even. This was the first time they had kissed since that day, and it was long over do, making it extra special for the both of them. Lips gently caressing, both of their eyes closed and squinted, the sound of their heartbeats syncing, pounding so hard, Harry was afraid it would jump out of his chest. Draco's lips had the sweetest taste of biscuits mixed with butterbeer, and it aroused Harry even more at that point. Going through Harry's hair with his hands, Draco smelled the a hint of his favourite cologne on his boyfriend. The cologne he gave him for his birthday, and it made him smile with joy on the inside and outside. Harry's lips were rather rough against his own, smooth and and rosy lips, but he loved that about their kisses, making it more enjoyable for him. The tongue was next to never involved, because they were both equally terrible at kissing that way, but sometimes they even tried that. They tried right now, and failed miserably.

After kissing what felt like an eternity, they both laughed at their failed attempt at actually kissing like pros, even with tears of sadness and joy in their eyes. Draco took out one of his many handkerchiefs, embroidered with signature Slytherin seal, and wiped away the tears from his boyfriend's face. He couldn't stand him crying. Harry gave him the same gesture. They were a team and that wouldn't change for anything in the world. Harry's parents were dead, and Draco's hated him. They were all they had, and it was perfect. Friends never understood them, they never really actually tried, but that was fine, as long as they found someone who did, and they did. "I love you, my slippery snake." Harry said, while standing up and gathering his things. "Now, let's go our room and clean you up, dear. You're a mess, and we don't want anyone to see like this, right?" Just staring at his boyfriend, Draco grabbed his crutches and stood up, leaned on them and took a step. He looked over at Harry, nudged him with his elbow, shifting in his spot. "I love you, too, my lion."


End file.
